


Get Sick Soon

by Polomonkey



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Familiars, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Magic, Magic Revealed, Pining, Romance, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has been pining for Merlin for so long that he jumps at the chance to go take care of him when he's sick. But why is his flat so strangely decorated? And what's that weird noise coming from the bedroom? And did Merlin's cat really just speak to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Sick Soon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mushroomtale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushroomtale/gifts).



> For Mushroom, who is the light of my life and also doesn't mind when I show up with a birthday fic a week late _(hopefully)_. I don't know if you remember sending me [these aus](http://mushroomtale.tumblr.com/post/122058901558/modern-magic-aus-aw-heck) but I wanted to write you a fluff fic and a whump fic and this list provided the fluff one! To be continued... <333
> 
> Fic title and quote taken from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTbxomSX7H4) adorable song.

**Oh, I love you! I wish you got the flu**  
**So that I could take care of you**  
**Like you take care of me**

***

Arthur would be the first to admit that he wasn’t the most patient man when it came to the flu. The sound of sniffling irritated him, the sound of coughing infuriated him, and the sound of sneezing just plain disgusted him. He sent people home from the office when they came in with red noses and puffy eyes, and he shut himself away from polite society when he was similarly afflicted. All in all, while he acknowledged that there were many ways he could be a caring and considerate friend, looking after sick people wasn’t one of them.

Except when it came to Merlin.

Arthur had basically gotten used to the fact that Merlin was the exception to every single rule he’d ever made. Ever since they’d first met two years ago, Arthur had resigned himself to the sad truth that all the long held principles of his life crumbled into dust in the face of Merlin’s patented brand of quirky allure.

There was just no getting away from it. Arthur was head over heels for Merlin in spite of the fact (or perhaps because of it, truthfully) that Merlin was a little bit… strange.

Not in a bad way. 

Just… eccentric, perhaps. Merlin seemed to exude a faint air of otherworldliness, even in the most mundane of situations. And he always smelt of joss sticks, and he occasionally muttered nonsense words to himself, and his satchel bag was sometimes full of the oddest things (although Merlin would close it abruptly if he caught Arthur looking).

Also one time when he hugged Arthur goodbye, Arthur had felt Merlin reach into his coat pocket. He immediately put his hand in to pull out a smooth purple rock; at which point Merlin went extremely pink and started mumbling about how he saw it and thought of Arthur.

“You saw a rock and thought of me?” Arthur asked, bemused.

The blush on Merlin’s face went from faint to furious.

“Forget it, I’ll just take it back,” he muttered, reaching out, but Arthur closed his hand around the rock.

“No. I like it. I’m keeping it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll put it on my mantelpiece.”

“Yes, good, that’ll work,” Merlin said enthusiastically. “Er. I mean… it’ll work with the colour scheme. Purple is very in vogue right now.”

“You are profoundly odd,” Arthur said.

Merlin’s face fell a little. 

“Odd is good,” Arthur said quickly, trying to control his own blush when Merlin beamed at him.

He still had that rock on his mantelpiece; alongside the little wool puppet Merlin had brought him back from his holiday in Cork, and the tree bark he’d brought him from Swansea, and the ceramic fox he’d brought him from Sicily.

Arthur didn’t actually remember Merlin taking any of these holidays, but he supposed they must have been long weekends or something. Why else would Merlin be giving him random gifts and insisting they were so prominently displayed in his house?

Not that Arthur minded displaying them. It was actually nice to have some little reminders of Merlin in his flat. Even if he frankly didn’t need them. He thought about Merlin pretty much every day without being prompted.

And he missed him when he wasn’t there. Which was why he could hardly conceal his disappointment when he arrived at the pub for their usual group Sunday roast and found him absent.

“Where’s Merlin?”

“Oh, he’s ill,” Gwen said sympathetically. “Poor thing, he sounded terrible when he called.”

“He sounded terrible?” Arthur said, feeling a slight twinge. He knew this would happen eventually, what with Merlin being so skinny and slight and always doing ridiculous things like wandering around in winter with no coat on. He was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner, but Merlin had always been strangely hardy when it came to his health. 

But he was sick now and Arthur was vaguely discomfited by the prospect. Merlin lived alone and there was no-one to look after him when he was sick – what if he had no medicine in the house? What if he wasn’t keeping his fluids topped up? What if after he called Gwen he had collapsed to the floor and was lying there helpless and weak, probably while that evil cat of his attempted to eat him?

“Maybe I should go round?” he said in a would-be-nonchalant voice, and Gwen gave him one of her patented Knowing Looks.

“Okay, but call first. I offered and he didn’t seem too keen on the idea.”

Arthur nodded and slipped outside to make the call. He wasn’t sure at first if he’d dialled the right number; since all he could hear on the other end was a round of cacophonous yips. Then he realised that sound was Merlin _sneezing._

He sounded like a small, angry dog and only the miserable way he croaked hello stopped Arthur actually laughing down the phone.

“Hey Merls, I heard you were ill?”

“Oh no, I’m fine. It’s just a little-”

Merlin broke into another sneezing bout and Arthur was powerfully reminded of the Yorkshire terrier next door and how it reacted every time the postman came.

“…a little cold,” Merlin finished weakly.

“You want me to come over with some medicine?”

“Ah no, it’s really not that bad.”

“Oh, well then we could just watch some DVDs or something if you feel okay.”

“No! I, er, actually do feel quite bad. Not really up to company.”

Arthur frowned.

“Well let me bring you some soup or something. Lucozade? Lemsip?”

“Got all of that!” Merlin said, sounding slightly panicked.

“I could bring my space heater if you’re chilly?” Arthur said, slightly reaching at this point. But he couldn’t quite let this go. He didn’t want Merlin to be ill and alone.

“Oh, put the boy out of his misery,” a languid male voice said and Arthur started in surprise. He thought he heard Merlin hiss “Shut up!” in the background but it was a bit too late.

Merlin was with a man.

Which was fine. Completely fine. Merlin was a free agent, after all. He could date who he wanted. It wasn’t as though Arthur had ever told him how he felt. It wasn’t as though Arthur had ever said how amazing he thought Merlin was, how he’d love the chance to take him out just once, how he imagined every day what Merlin’s hand would feel like holding his…

“Is someone there?” Arthur said, trying to sound causal around the lump in his throat.

“No, no, it’s just the television,” Merlin said, sounding flustered. “Look, I’ve gotta go, speak soon okay?”

Then with one final sneeze the line went dead.

Arthur stared at the phone in his hand and tried not to feel so disappointed. If Merlin wanted some time to be alone with this guy then that was his prerogative, and Arthur had no right to be petty and jealous about it. 

But he had sounded very ill. Suddenly Arthur remembered when he had the flu last year and Merlin had come round with a stack of DVDs, a fluffy comforter, and some strange homemade tonic that had miraculously cleared up all of Arthur’s symptoms within an hour.

It had been so sweet. He wanted to do the same for Merlin now; to go round and take care of him. But Merlin didn’t want him…

His phone beeped and Arthur’s heart quickened to see Merlin’s name on the text.

_Disregard previous conversation. Please come to my abode at once._

Despite the frankly bizarre phrasing, Arthur felt a tingle of warmth running through him. He made his goodbyes to Gwen and the others before hurrying down to the café on the corner. He knew how much Merlin loved the coriander soup there and he wanted to pick some up on the way.

When Merlin opened the door, Arthur felt bad for his first thought because Merlin was clearly not well at all. And yet… he looked so cute. His hair was all fluffy and sticking up from his head, his cheeks were flushed pink, and the tip of his nose was red. To top it all off, he was half wrapped in a furry white blanket, under which Arthur could see some brightly coloured and entirely adorable Pokemon pyjamas. 

He managed to restrain himself from cooing and held up the soup instead. But Merlin didn’t look exactly thrilled to see it – or him.

“What are you doing here?” he said unhappily.

“You texted me to come,” Arthur said indignantly, digging his phone out as proof.

Merlin took the phone from his hand and scanned the screen, lips pursing. Then for some odd reason he turned around to glare at his cat.

“Yes, apparently I did,” he said through gritted teeth. “I… I must have fever texted you. You should go Arthur, it’s super contagious, I’d hate to be responsible for you-”

“Merlin,” Arthur said stoutly, holding up a hand. “I’m not going until I see you have everything you need. I’ll take my chances with this rare fever texting disease.”

“Alright,” Merlin said reluctantly. “But just five minutes.”

He finally stepped back to allow Arthur into the hallway, giving him his first long awaited glimpse of Merlin’s flat. 

There was a huge pentacle on the wall above the door, surrounded by various woodcuts with what appeared to be runes carved into them. There was a large and intricate Celtic plaque mounted on the opposite wall and several crystals hanging down from the key hooks. A strong smell of incense filled the air and a fat book being used as a door stop entitled Practical Potions for Health and Wellbeing. 

“Oh my God,” Arthur breathed.

It was all so obvious now. The faint sense of oddness around Merlin. The gifts he brought Arthur back from holiday. Even that homemade tonic that had cured his flu.

“I knew you were hiding something but I honestly never thought…” 

“Arthur, I can explain, please just-” Merlin began but Arthur cut him off.

“I can’t believe you’re a New Ager!”

“What?”

“Oh don’t get embarrassed, Merlin, although I can see why you would be. I mean, healing crystals, honestly?”

“They’re not for healing, they’re for… ha, I mean, yeah. Good old healing crystals. Just one of my New Age remedies.”

Arthur scoffed.

“Next thing you’ll be telling me star-signs aren’t a load of crap.”

“Typical Libran attitude,” Merlin sniffed. “Anyway, now that you know my dirty little secret…” 

“Not a chance,” Arthur said. “I’m staying until I’ve watched you eat all of that soup and then I’ll leave you in hippie peace.”

Merlin sighed resignedly and gestured to the living room.

“Fine, come and sit down.”

But they had no sooner settled on the sofa when a strange popping noise sounded from the direction of Merlin’s bedroom.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing!” Merlin practically yelled. “I’ll sort it out. You – just – wait here.”

Merlin shut the door very firmly behind him and Arthur couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his stomach. Was the man still here? But why would Merlin have invited Arthur round if he was?

He sat for a while longer before getting up to open the door a crack.

“You need a hand?” he called.

“No!” Merlin shouted, sneezing angrily for emphasis.

And people said Arthur was bad at accepting help! Jeez, he was practically a Care Bear in comparison to Merlin. He slunk back into the living room and shook his head.

“That boy is a nightmare when he’s sick.”

“Tell me about it,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

Then he stopped dead because who the hell said that?

He whirled round but there was only Merlin’s creepy cat sat on the coffee table, slowly blinking at him.

“Wow, I’m going mad,” Arthur muttered. It must be that weird incense that Merlin was burning, it was messing with his head. To be honest he’d felt a bit hazy ever since he arrived.

“Why not take a seat?”

“Yeah, good idea,” Arthur said and then shouted in surprise. 

The cat was not talking to him. Even if it looked very much like it was moving its mouth just then. Cats cannot talk. He was obviously having a bad allergic reaction to the incense and actually sitting down for a second might not be a bad idea…

He flopped onto the red armchair and shut his eyes, massaging his temples. Maybe it was time to take a few days off work, like Morgana suggested. The pressure seemed to be getting to him. Perhaps he could go abroad somewhere… 

He took a few deep breaths. The smooth rocking motion of the chair was starting to feel quite comfortable and Arthur lay back, trying to relax into it.

Wait a second. This was not a rocking chair.

Arthur opened his eyes and let out a distinctly high pitched yelp to see that the chair had somehow migrated to the hallway with him still on it. 

_Hidden legs_ , Arthur thought. It was battery powered, it was a joke chair, a trick for unsuspecting visitors… 

Light headed, he stumbled to his feet and watched as the chair plodded off towards the kitchen.

“Can’t sit still for a minute, that one,” a sniffy voice said behind him and Arthur turned to see the cat shaking its head disgustedly.

_Oh God._

He’d caught Merlin’s fever, that must be it, and now he was hallucinating. He just needed to drink some water; he just needed to lie down for a bit…

“Merlin,” he said weakly, tapping on the closed bedroom door. “Merlin, I think I’m ill.”

He’d fumbled for the knob and pushed the door open before Merlin’s cry of ‘No!’ had even reached his ears. Merlin was standing in the middle of the room, arms outstretched in horror. But he wasn’t what had caught Arthur’s attention. It was currently a three way tie between the knick knacks zooming through the air at alarming speeds; the large vines rapidly stealing in through the window and spreading across the ceiling; and the honest-to-God bubbling _cauldron_ emitting bright purple sparks in the corner.

Arthur did not faint; because fainting was for Victorians and goats, and he was neither. But it was fair to say he might have come over slightly dizzy. And had to slump down in a nearby bean bag chair. Which then said “Watch it, pal” in a strong Glaswegian accent.

His subsequent scream was not very loud at all and barely counted as a scream really. In case any rumours were flying around to the contrary.

“Oh my God, are you alright?” Merlin said, flapping his hands ineffectually. “It’s not as bad as it looks Arthur, let me just- _achoo_!”

As if triggered by Merlin’s sneeze, the wardrobe flew open and began merrily expelling its contents into the room.

“Ah no!” Merlin said in dismay, raising a hand and mumbling something Arthur couldn’t understand. A few blue sparks flew out of Merlin’s fingertips but the wardrobe seemed entirely unaffected.

“M-m-magic,” Arthur stammered. “You have m-m-magic.”

“I can explain,” Merlin said desperately. Arthur tried to get up, but found one of Merlin’s scarves had somehow tied his legs together.

“This isn’t happening,” he said and Merlin wailed.

“It’s not normally like this, I swear! I just- I got ill and my magic’s gone haywire, and normally I can control it but I just-”

Merlin broke off as a coat hanger careened into his head.

“Ow! Will you lot just _behave_?”

“This isn’t happening,” Arthur said again, realising that the poinsettia on the windowsill was actually _waving_ at him.

“Please Arthur just- _hey, stop that_!”

The object of Merlin’s ire was a tendril of ivy attempting to sneakily climb up Arthur’s trouser leg.

“I’m hallucinating,” Arthur said hopefully. “I’m dreaming.”

“I’ll happily give you a pinch, pal,” the beanbag said cheerfully.

“All of you leave Arthur alone!” Merlin shouted. But even in his daze Arthur could see it wasn’t necessary. Merlin might be taking a battering but none of the zooming objects had hit Arthur so far, and most of the plants seemed positively thrilled to see him.

A little too thrilled actually. The tendril was surreptitiously crawling back up Arthur’s leg. Arthur gave it a panicked kick and then turned in alarm to see the cauldron belching out thick green smoke.

“Merlin!”

“Oh thank God, it’s ready,” Merlin said, relieved. And he dipped a cup into the steaming cauldron and necked what looked to be a bright blue smoothie in one single gulp.

Nothing happened for about ten seconds. Then Merlin nodded in satisfaction and raised his hand.

“ _Ablinnan_!”

Instantly everything stopped. The clothes flew back into the wardrobe. The knick knacks replaced themselves on the shelves. The vines drew back and slipped out of the window.

Arthur gaped up at Merlin and there was a long silence.

“How about that soup now?” Merlin said.

 

***

 

Two bowls of soup and three cups of tea later, Arthur was feeling a little calmer. Merlin had taken him into the living room, sat him down on the (now thankfully stationary) red armchair and told him everything. About how magic was rare but did exist. About how he’d had it from birth and his Uncle Gaius had taught him how to use it. About how he’d wanted to tell Arthur for a long time but he’d been afraid of what the reaction might be.

“I don’t know why you assumed my reaction would be anything other than ‘this is insanely cool, can you take me flying sometime?’”

“That scream earlier was your ‘this is cool’ scream, was it?”

“It wasn’t exactly the calmest introduction to magic!” Arthur said indignantly. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Merlin groaned. “It’s obviously not like that all the time, but when I get sick it just goes mad. Animating things that shouldn’t be animated, pulling in all the plants in a half-mile radius, sending all my furniture on walkabout.”

“So normally your chair stays put?” Arthur said, casting a wary glance at the (vaguely smug looking, he was sure) red armchair he was sitting on.

“Well, no actually,” Merlin admitted. “I just find that one quite handy for when I don’t want to get up.” 

If someone had asked Arthur before today, he might have assumed that if magic really existed, it would be used to take over countries and wreak havoc on the streets. Apparently Merlin was more concerned about not having to stand up to find the remote.

“ _Anyway_. The antidote just takes so long to brew and it was all chaos and then you showed up out of the blue-”

“You invited me round!”

“Not exactly,” Merlin began and there was an irritated sigh behind him.

“I was the one to summon you via that infernal telecommunication device.”

Arthur might have accepted a lot about magic in the past few hours, but the sight of a grown man’s voice coming from a cat’s mouth still made his knees a little shaky.

“Arthur, meet Killy,” Merlin said in a faintly long suffering way.

“Kilgharrah if you please,” the cat said imperiously.

“Oh for God’s sake. Arthur, _Kilgharrah_ is my familiar. Or my Much-Too-Familiar to be more accurate.”

“That joke gets wittier every time I hear it,” Killy drawled.

“Shut up or I’ll pull your tail,” Merlin said and Killy bared his teeth.

“So why did you text me?” Arthur intervened quickly, not sure that he could handle the strangeness of Merlin bickering with a tabby cat.

“It was about time you knew the truth. Besides, I was tired of seeing Merlin moon over-”

“Out! Now. Or I’ll send you to the cattery,” Merlin threatened.

Killy gave him a disdainful sneer and then stalked out through the cat flap.

“So…” Arthur said into the vaguely awkward silence. “You have a familiar.”

“More’s the pity,” Merlin said glumly. “Gaius gave me him as a nameday present. I’ve always wondered if Gaius secretly hates me.” 

“What’s a nameday?”

“Oh you come of age in the magical world at seventeen, that’s meant to be when you’re in full control of your powers. Although clearly today proves that full control may be asking a little much of me.”

Arthur digested this.

“It’s like this whole world I don’t know anything about,” he said at last. “A whole side of you I don’t know anything about.”

Merlin suddenly looked anxious.

“I’m not any different Arthur, honest,” he said earnestly. “I mainly use my magic for you. For all the people I love. I cast protection spells, I make peace charms, I give out talismans.”

“The holiday presents,” Arthur said, realising. And then, a second later: “The people you love?”

Merlin blushed.

“Yeah, you know, I did a load of defence spells on my mum’s house, and I got Gwen and Gwaine and Elyan that same little wool puppet I gave you, that’s to ward off evil...”

“Did you give them the tree bark and the ceramic fox too?”

Merlin ducked his head.

“No,” he admitted.

“So what do they do?”

“The tree bark is for good health. And the fox is for luck and long life.”

“And the purple rock?”

“It’s a wellbeing stone,” Merlin said, still resolutely staring at the ground. “It’s… some people don’t believe in them. Magic’s not an exact science. But the idea is it brings happiness to the owner. As long as the person giving it…”

“Yes?” Arthur prompted.

“…cares more about the owner than anything in the world,” Merlin said in a very small voice.

Arthur didn’t think he had any capacity left to be shocked today, but apparently he was wrong.

“Are you saying-”

“I don’t want anything from you, Arthur,” Merlin said in that same small voice. “I didn’t give you those things so you’d feel obligated to… I just wanted to see you happy.”

“A wellbeing stone won’t make me happy,” Arthur said slowly, feeling a sudden warmth spreading through his whole body.

He reached out and took Merlin’s hand.

“You make me happy. Forget the spells. You’re my talisman. You’re my good luck charm. You’re my-”

And then words seemed rather inadequate so Arthur kissed him instead.

He didn’t know all that much about cauldrons and charms and walking chairs, but kissing Merlin was its own kind of magic. Familiar but strange, safe but exciting; at once entirely natural and completely extraordinary.

Even when Merlin sneezed in his mouth.

“Come on sniffles, let’s get you to bed,” Arthur said fondly.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Merlin said, undermining his flirtatious tone with another raucous sneeze.

“Right now I’m seducing you into getting a good night’s sleep,” Arthur said. “The other stuff can wait till tomorrow.”

“Are you staying the night?” Merlin said hopefully.

“Of course,” Arthur said. “Can’t leave my boyfriend when he’s sick, can I?”

Then he pulled Merlin into his lap, and let the red armchair carry them off to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [ART: The Sick Warlock](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002035) by [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72)




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